


Hard to Say I'm Sorry

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean x Reader, F/M, Reader Insert, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Violence, castiel - Freeform, major death, moc!dean, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 13:44:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: Dean can't control the Mark, and Y/N reconsiders her life with him when he kills the youngest Stein. Flashforward, Y/N needs their help and Sam has to confess that he's talked to her more than he's admitted to Dean. Will they make it in time, or will she just be another extended casualty of the Mark?





	Hard to Say I'm Sorry

_A hotel near Vermillion, SD_

Dean sat in the hotel room, the piece of paper in his hand shaking slightly as he stared down at the words scrawled hastily in her handwriting. He didn’t need to read it; he could have recited it word for word by heart.

_Dean,_

_I’m sorry that it had to be this way, but I don’t know what else to do. I thought I could do this…live this life…as long as I was with you. But you’ve changed. The mark has changed you and I need time to think. **Everybody needs a little time away** from their problems so that they can see them clearly. I can’t see for the darkness, and right now…you’re the darkness. _

_**After all that we’ve been through and after all that’s been said and done** , **you’re just the part of me I can’t let go** , which is why I had to leave. I love you, Dean, I just can’t love what you’ve become. The only way I’m going to be able to survive is to get away._

_I’m sorry._

_Y/N_

Dean glanced down, the mark burning and mocking him on his forearm, semi-covered in blood splatter. He could feel the anger bubbling up, the rage that he’d been trying so hard to push down rushing up from his gut and tightening in his chest as the letter fluttered from his hand and landed on the floor.

He stood and walked to the bathroom, his green eyes searching the reflection for something recognizable, something to calm him. Instead, all he saw was the reason Y/N was gone and why he was alone. It may have been his face looking back at him in the mirror, but he didn’t recognize the man he saw. Underneath the blood, a stranger looked back at him, and the anger finally broke free.

His fist shattered the reflective surface, throwing his face into a hundred jagged pieces. He didn’t notice the blood that flowed freely from his knuckles as he threw the television off the stand or as he busted the chair against the floor, it’s wooden pieces flying in all directions.

He didn’t notice when the door opened and his brother had to duck to narrowly avoid a lamp as Dean threw it as hard as he could across the room, or when Sam grabbed him and pushed him down to sit on the bed and attempted to calm him. He didn’t notice when he struck out at Sam and connected his fist to Sam’s jaw, rocking the younger Winchester backwards as he tried to regain his balance. The only thing Dean noticed was the creased piece of paper as it laid on the floor, its contents practically screaming at him.

_I’m sorry._

**1 month earlier…**

The shot rang out across the bunker, it’s echo deafening in Cas’s ears. He slid to a stop in front of the steps leading to the library and slowly ascended them, his eyes trained on the young boy sprawled on the floor and the pool of blood slowly spreading out underneath him. Dean stood silently, his arm still raised, smoke curling up from the barrel of his gun.

“ _Dean…_ ” Cas’s deep voice seemed to interrupt Dean’s thoughts and his arm slowly lowered. Rushed footsteps approached and Cas threw his arm out to stop Y/N from running up the steps to Dean. Her wide eyes went from Dean’s still form down to the youngest Styne, then to Cas, who shook his head and returned his gaze to Dean. “ _You killed him…_ ”

Dean turned slowly to face them, “ _I took down a monster. Because that’s what I do. And I’ll continue to do that until…_ ”

Cas took a step forward, holding his hand towards Y/N to stop her from following, “ _Until you become the monster._ ”

Dean laid the gun on the table and took a step closer to Cas, his eyes narrowed, “ _You can leave now, Cas._ ”

Cas angled his body so that he was between Dean and Y/N, and he felt Y/N reach out and grab his arm. “ _No. I can’t. Because I’m your friend._ ”

Dean laughed darkly, “ _Really? Well, let me ask you something. Do you screw over all your friends?_ ”

It was Cas’s turn to narrow his eyes, his head tilted, “ _Sam, Y/N, and I were trying to cure you! We still are!_ ”

Dean rolled his eyes, his arms crossed, “ _Like hell._ ”

Cas took another step towards him and Y/N moved along with Cas. She looked at Dean pleadingly, as if begging him to believe them, “ _We can read the Book now, Dean! The Mark can be removed, we just need time_.”

Dean shifted his focus to Y/N, his eyes narrowed, “ _Oh so what? So you might find a spell that might take this crap off my arm? But even if you do, what’s it gonna cost? ‘Cause magic like that does not come free. No, it comes with a price that you pay in blood. So thanks, but I’m good._ ”

As Dean turned to leave, Y/N stepped forward with her hand out to stop him. Cas pushed her back and grabbed Dean’s shoulder himself, “ _No! You’re not. Maybe you could fight the Mark for years. Maybe centuries, like Cain did. But you cannot fight it forever. And when you finally turn, and you will turn… Sam, Y/N, and everyone you know, everyone you love… they could be long dead. Everyone except me. I’m the one who will have to watch you murder the world. So if there’s even a small chance that we can save you, I won’t let you walk out of this room._ ”

Dean turned to face Cas, his gaze cold as he looked at the angel, “ _Oh, you think you have a choice._ That’s cute.”

Cas’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked into his best friend’s eyes and saw nothing but rage, “ _I think the Mark is changing you._ ”

Dean shook his head, “No, see, that’s where you’re wrong. Because this is just who I am.”

Y/N’s quiet voice spoke up then, and Cas closed his eyes at the amount of emotion that small whisper carried, “ _Is it? Because the Dean Winchester we know would never have murdered that kid._ ”

Dean looked over Cas’s shoulder at Y/N and her heart ached at how angry he looked, but even more so, how broken he seemed, “ _Yea well, that Dean’s always been kind of a dick._ ” Dean turned to leave again, but Cas tightened his grip on Dean’s shoulder.

“ _Dean, I don’t want to have to hurt you._ ”

“ _I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem._ ” Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and wrenched it off of his shoulder, then punched him hard in the face with his free hand. Y/N called Dean’s name in an effort to draw his attention away from Cas, but Dean continued to punch Cas over and over before finally throwing him onto the floor. Cas, blood pouring from his mouth and nose, stood shakily and attempted to stop Dean one last time.

“ _Dean, stop._ ”

Dean, who had made it halfway to the doorway, charged back at Cas and launched a new attack while Y/N looked on in horror, shock rooting her in place as the man she loved beat their best friend into the ground. Dean finally stopped hitting Cas long enough to pull the angel blade from Cas’s coat and grabbed his tie, his arm pulled back and ready to stab.

Cas managed to grab Dean’s hand and locked his swollen eyes with Dean’s, “ _No, Dean. Please…_ ” he coughed and blood trickled down his chin.

Dean stared coldly down at Cas, then slammed the angel blade deep into a book just inches from Cas’s face, “ _You and Sam stay the hell away from me. Next time, I won’t miss._ ” As he strode angrily from the room, he cast a long look at Y/N as she stood against the bookcase, tears running down her face. 

* * *

Dean’s bedroom door slammed open so hard that the handle hit the concrete wall with a sharp twang and the door bounced back toward the person that had thrown it open.

“What the hell, Dean? What is wrong with you? You nearly killed Cas!”

Dean looked up at Y/N from where he was sitting on his bed and shrugged, “He’s an angel. He’ll heal.” He watched her, her fists clenched against her thighs and her breathing heavy, and wanted to simultaneously throw her on the bed and kick her out.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were going to stab him with an angel blade! You can’t fix that, Dean. You can’t take that back. He’s your best friend-”

Dean stood quickly and Y/N took a step back as he stepped towards her, “My best friend went behind my back with my girlfriend and my brother to save me from something I don’t need to be saved from. I can handle this, Y/N.”

Y/N crossed her arms, determined to stand her ground even though she knew that this Dean wouldn’t think twice about hurting her, “Handle it, huh? Do you know how many people you killed tonight, Dean? Do you understand that those were people, not monsters? In case you were wondering, the answer is twenty. And one of them was a kid who wanted nothing to do with that life. Sound familiar? But yea, I guess you’re handling it.”

“Those people tore apart Charlie. You didn’t get to see that, so I guess it doesn’t mean as much to you, but I had to pick her up, I had to make sure her guts stayed where they were supposed to when I carried her from the bathtub to the car. I had to watch her burn. I did that. And I had to do that because you and Sam did exactly what I told you not to do. It’s as much your fault as Sam’s that Charlie is dead. So no, they weren’t people. They were monsters, and as far as I’m concerned, you aren’t much better. **It’s hard for me to say I’m sorry** when I’m not the one that should be apologizing.”

The sharp crack as Y/N’s hand connected with Dean’s face echoed in the small room, “How dare you?! She was my best friend, Dean, one of the few people I could rely on-” she was cut off as Dean grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the wall.

“You don’t get to say that about her, don’t even say her name.” Y/N smacked at Dean’s hand weakly, and for a moment her Dean was back, his wide, green eyes filled with tears as he quickly pulled his hand away from Y/N’s throat. Y/N coughed as she tried to catch her breath, and she moved towards the door. “Y/N, I’m sorry-”

She shook her head, “Don’t. I’m not…I can’t stay here tonight. I’m going to my room. Just leave me alone.” With that she turned and left, slamming the door behind her. Dean sat heavily on the bed and dropped his head into his hands.

The Mark burned and he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. Cas and Y/N had been right all along. He was changing, and the worst part was, he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it. 

* * *

**Present day…**

Sam laid his tablet in front of Dean and sat down at the table across from him, “We’ve got a case.”

Dean looked up from the book he was only half paying attention to and grunted, “A case? What happened to the Book and finding a cure?”

Sam leaned back in his chair and shrugged, “Rowena is working on it. She’s…she’s close. We’ve been in this bunker for weeks, we need to get out and do something.”

Dean closed his book and slid it away from him, then picked up the tablet, “‘Death count up to five as sheriff scrambles to find a suspect’. That’s some headline, but what does it have to do with us?”

Sam gestured at the tablet, “Werewolf, likely more than one. If you read the article, it talks about how each body was missing the heart. Definitely seems to be our kind of thing.”  

Dean nodded, “Yea, I guess. So, how’d you find it? Have you been looking for stuff?”

Sam grabbed the tablet from Dean and walked away from the table, “No, umm…someone sent it to me, said they could use our help. It’s not that far, so I figured we could take it.”

Dean followed Sam into  the kitchen. “Who sent it? Garth? I’m surprised he’s not trying to find a way to tame them, make them part of his little pack.”

Sam tossed Dean a beer, “No, it was…it was Y/N.”

Dean glanced over at Sam sharply, “What?”

“She texted me and said she needed some backup, one werewolf turned into three, and she thought I…we…might be able to help.”

“So you’ve been talking to her this whole time? And you didn’t think that was something you should have mentioned?”

Sam sighed, “It’s not like we talk all the time, she just checks in on occasion. She…umm…she didn’t want me to mention it.”

Dean slammed his beer on the table, “Didn’t want you to mention it?! And she’s hunting? That’s why she freakin’ left, Sam, and she’s still doing it?” Sam picked at the label on his beer and remained silent. They both knew that wasn’t the real reason, but neither of them vocalized what both of them were thinking. “Where is she?” Sam stayed quiet for a moment and Dean narrowed his eyes, “Where is she, Sam?”

“…She’s in Sioux Falls.” Dean stood quickly and threw his beer bottle at the sink, glass and amber liquid flying everywhere, and Sam flinched.

“She’s been in Sioux Falls this whole time, and you never told me? Does Jody know?” Sam looked down at his hands and Dean scoffed, “Of course she does. Unbelievable.”

“Dean-”

“Get your shit together, we leave in five.” He stormed out of the kitchen towards his room and Sam sighed. The five hour drive to Sioux Falls was going to be a long one. 

* * *

“What hotel are we going to?”

Sam glanced up from his phone, “She’s not been staying at a hotel, she’s got an apartment in town when she’s not doing jobs.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Seriously, unbelievable. We need to have a serious conversation about what types of things you should tell me and what types of things I don’t care about. In case you were unclear, this would be in the ‘things you should tell me’ category.”

“Take a left here, her apartment building is on the right.” Dean turned, then slowly pulled up to the curb. A three story apartment building was partially hidden by two large trees, the front yard enclosed by an old, cast iron fence. The yard needed to be mowed, but otherwise it was a decent, unassuming building.

“Place is a dump…” Dean muttered as they approached the front door.

“Dean, it’s a nice place. And when we go in, just…be cool. Maybe just let me talk…she doesn’t…I didn’t tell her you were coming.”

Dean threw his hands up, but said nothing. Sam pulled the front door open and proceeded up the stairs and to the second floor. Dean raised an eyebrow, “How did you know where she lived, anyway? You didn’t even look at your phone…” He trailed off as realization sunk in, “You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

Sam looked at him sideways as he knocked on Y/N’s door, “Just once. I…helped her move some stuff.”

Dean’s fists clenched at his sides, “I swear to God I’m going to punch you in the face.” He could feel the anger settling into the pit of his stomach, its hot tendrils wrapping around his guts and crawling its way to his heart. He was about to say something else, but the look on Sam’s face stopped him. “What?” he snapped.

“She never answered my last text, and she’s not answering the door…something’s wrong. She said she’d be here.” He banged on the door again, “Y/N! It’s me, Sam!” Nothing but silence answered him. Sam went to pick the lock, but the handle turned easily in his hand and the door swung open. He looked at Dean, then back at the partially open door, and nudged it the rest of the way open.

The apartment was empty and appeared to be in order. Y/N had never had a lot of stuff to begin with, and whatever she took from the bunker appeared to be the only things she used to decorate this place, with the addition of some used furniture. Dean walked over to an end table and picked up a framed photograph. It was a photo of the three of them, Y/N laughing in the middle with Dean’s arm around her as he placed a gentle kiss on her temple while Sam leaned an elbow on top of her head. He remembered the day vividly; if he’d had to describe his Heaven, an eternity he’d want to live in, that would have been it. He took a deep breath, willing the anger to pass so that he could concentrate, and forced himself to release his white-knuckle grip on the picture.

Sam returned from the hallway, “Everything seems okay, no signs of a struggle, looks like she took her keys and her phone. Weird, but I don’t think we need to worry yet.” Dean was still looking at the picture and didn’t appear to have heard anything that Sam had said. “Hey, are you okay?”

Dean turned to face Sam slowly, and Sam froze. He had seen his brother angry, at monsters, at their father, at Cas, even himself, but those looks paled in comparison to how he looked now.

“Am I okay?” he laughed darkly, “No, Sam, I’m not _okay_. She left us. She left me. We were happy, we were a family. She left because she couldn’t handle this life and now that’s the very thing she’s doing. And the shitty icing on this fucked up cake is that my brother knew where she was this whole time and didn’t even give me the courtesy of letting me know she was okay. So I would say no, I am very much not okay.”

Sam sighed, his gaze to the floor, “Dean,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “We both know that’s not why she left. Trust me, I wish I could have told you. It killed me to see you so miserable, but you aren’t…you aren’t you, man. You could have killed her. That’s why she left, that’s why I couldn’t risk telling you-” He was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering against the wall next to his head as the picture slammed into it, and Sam threw his arm up to guard himself from the shards.

“Screw you, Sam. **I just want you to know** that when this is done, when we’ve finished this job, I don’t want anything to do with you. You can have the bunker, you can have Y/N since it’s clear you have both made your choice, but I’m gone. You aren’t my brother. You aren’t anything.” He walked towards the door, then stopped and without turning growled, “If anything happens to her, I will kill you.” Sam watched Dean disappear down the stairs and wondered what he was going to do. 

* * *

Dean had been driving for awhile when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled into a parking lot and checked his messages.

_Y/N texted me, she’s okay. She got a lead, took off, and forgot to let me know. Looks like there are two werewolves, and at least one of them is newly turned. She sent me two possible addresses to check, so if you get this…I’ll send you one and I’ll take the other. And Dean…I’m sorry._

The phone vibrated again and Dean stared at the address for a moment before he jammed the phone back into his pocket and slammed the car into drive without responding to Sam. He had been serious when he said he was done; Sam had continuously kept things from him, and he was tired. He was tired of wondering when Sam was telling him the truth or when he was lying, and he was tired of the way Sam looked at him like he was going to snap at any moment. Despite that, and the anger he felt about Sam keeping Y/N’s whereabouts from him, he couldn’t leave without making sure Y/N was okay, even if she didn’t want anything to do with him.

He slowed as he approached the address Sam had texted him. It was a run-down motel, The Bluebird Motel and Lounge, and was not much different than those he’d often found himself in. He parked in front of the office and wandered inside. A woman stood behind the counter, chewing gum and flipping through a magazine.

He cleared his throat as he approached the counter and flipped out his FBI badge, “Hello ma'am, my name is Agent Montoya, and I’m with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I’m looking for someone and I was hoping you could help me.”

The woman glanced up with a look of an annoyance that soon turned into a wide smile as she took in the man standing in front of her, “Oh sure, I’ll do what I can. Who are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for a woman, about Y/H, with long Y/H/C hair, and Y/E/C eyes. She may have presented herself as an FBI agent.”

“Oh, yea! She was just here about an hour ago. She was looking for a guy by the name of Derek Mullins. I don’t know if she even left, actually. I told her the room number but she said not to bother with the key. I thought that was kind of weird, but FBI can do what they want, right?”

Dean smiled, “We sure can. Mind giving me the room number and the key?”

She looked at him skeptically for a moment, “Let me see that badge again. You sure don’t look like an FBI agent.”

Dean flipped open his badge again, “Gotta go undercover sometimes, sweetheart. The bad guys can see a suit coming a mile away. So how about that key and room number?”

She stared at the badge, then looked back at Dean. Apparently satisfied, she handed over the key, “Room 15, on the very end.”

Dean winked at her and couldn’t help but smirk as he saw the red spread across her cheeks, “Thanks again, darlin’.” He walked outside and surveyed the outside of the building. Room 15 was at the end to his left, closest to the densely wooded area of the park that was adjacent to the hotel. He double checked to make sure the bullets he had were silver and slowly made his way down the sidewalk with his gun drawn. The curtains were pulled tight, but he could see what looked like someone sitting in a chair with their back to the window. He pressed his back up against the wall and glanced down towards the doorknob where he saw a splash of blood bright against the white paint of the door. “Shit,” he muttered, and reached out slowly to open it. Before his hand could grasp the bronze handle, he felt a sharp pain as someone hit him in the back of the head, and his vision went black. 

* * *

When Dean woke, everything was a blurry mass of colors. His head felt like someone had drop kicked it, and when he tried to move he realized that his arms were tied behind the motel chair he was sitting in. “Son of a bitch,” he grumbled, angry that he had let someone get the drop on him. He blinked a few times and was finally able to see well enough to notice that the person sitting across from him, also tied to a chair, was Y/N. “Y/N, hey…” She looked up at him, and he swore under his breath when he saw the bruise already forming across her face, “Are you okay?”

She smiled, although it looked more like a grimace, “I’ve seen better days, but I’m alright. How are you?”

He shrugged, “Same old, same old.” They fell into an awkward silence, and despite all the things Dean had thought of to ask her or to say to her, his mind was completely blank.

“Dean, listen-” She was interrupted by the bathroom door slamming shut and heavy footsteps as they crossed the room.

“I hate to interrupt this little reunion, but we’ve got some things to take care of.” A large man, taller than Sam, crossed in front of Dean and knelt down in front of him, partially blocking his view of Y/N. “Dean Winchester. It’s been awhile. You are not a very easy person to track down, you know. You’d think someone as well known as you would be easy to find, but apparently you have a secret batcave you like to disappear to. It’s a good thing I’ve got a few connections in this town…including that sweet little thing at the front desk.” He grinned, a toothy smile that showed off yellowed and crooked teeth.

Dean grimaced, “Anyone ever told you that dental health should be a priority? Because dude, I think you might have missed that unit in grade school health class.” Dean’s head was rocked to the side as the man swung a meaty fist into his jaw. For a brief moment blackness darkened the edge of Dean’s vision, and he spat blood into the floor, the metallic after taste almost enough to make him gag. The man stood and circled around to stand behind Y/N. Dean could feel the Mark begin to  burn and the rage he had tried so hard to push down bubbling in his gut. “If you even think about touching her, I will kill you,” he growled, his eyes never leaving the man’s.

“Dean, you don’t have much say in this, although it’s cute that you think you do. Do you even remember who I am?” Dean’s only answer was a glare. The man chuckled, “Of course you don’t. You’re a hunter - you hunt, you kill, and you don’t bother learning or remembering names. My name is Derek, by the way. You killed my entire family, do you remember that? It was a couple of years ago, so maybe it’s not exactly at the forefront of your mind, but that’s okay. Because I remember.” Derek ran his hand through Y/N’s hair, his fingers tangling in the waves, and she tried to jerk her head away from him. He gripped tighter and yanked her hair back. She cried out, and Dean felt the rope burning his wrists as he struggled against it.

“I’ve killed a lot of monsters’ families, but sure, Derek, I remember.” He watched as Derek’s claws slid out over his human nails, and Y/N looked at Dean with wide eyes as the sharp tips dug into her throat.

“You might want to watch your tone, Winchester. You’re not really in the position to mouth back, and your girl here definitely isn’t.” He dragged a nail across her throat, and Dean could feel the power of the Mark surging through him as the fine red line turned into larger, ruby drops that rolled down Y/N’s neck. The rope around Dean’s wrists was loosening, and he glared at the werewolf.

“What exactly is your game plan? What purpose does this even serve?”

Derek’s other hand rested almost gently on Y/N’s shoulder, “My game plan is exactly what’s happening now. Use the girl’s phone to get the Winchesters to come here, because if you guys are nothing else you are persistent and recklessly loyal, and then kill you. It was actually way easier than I thought; you are ridiculously predictable.”

Dean laughed, “That was your grand plan? Use her to get me here and then what? Kill her in front of me? The joke is on you, man, she doesn’t want me. She dumped my ass faster than Charlie Sheen can say ‘winning’ after three lines of coke. Honestly, I don’t even care, one less person to have to worry about, but if you think this is going to affect me at all…well, I’m sorry, but your genius plot was for nothing.” He could feel Y/N staring at him, and he made it a point to ignore her despite how much he wanted to look at her. Derek stared at him with his head tilted as if considering what Dean had just said, then a smile crept across his face.

“Well then, if you care so little about this woman, you wouldn’t care if I did this…” Without warning, Derek dived forward and buried his fangs into Y/N’s neck. She screamed, the sound cutting into Dean  like a dull knife, and Derek pulled back from her with a sickening tearing sound. Dean had managed to finally break from the rope, hurriedly untied his legs, and launched himself towards Derek. His fist connected with Derek’s jaw with a resounding crack and Derek flew backwards into the wall. Dean threw another punch that connected with Derek’s temple and the werewolf slumped against the wall.

“Y/N!” She was slumped in the chair, the rope she was wrapped in the only thing holding her up. Dean held a hand to her neck and tried to stop the bleeding. Fresh blood oozed between his fingers with each pump of her heart, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you, I’m here.”

“Dean…” He began to untie the rope with one hand while he kept the other one over her wound, but he struggled as his hands kept slipping in the blood.

“Shhh…it’s okay. I’ve just gotta get this rope off, okay? I’ll fix it, remember how good I am at stitches? Better than you or Sammy any day.” Y/N attempted to smile and Dean smiled back, “See? That’s my girl.” Just as he got the rope untied, sharp claws dug into his scalp and threw him across the room. Dean slammed into the closed bathroom door and it flew open with a deafening crack. Dean groaned, the breath knocked out of him, and rolled over to try to get on his knees. A boot connected to his ribs and he felt at least two of them crack.

“Man, if that’s what it looks like when you don’t care, I’d love to see what you’re like when you do. Such passion, Dean.” He knelt down so that he could be closer to Dean, who was currently curled up in the floor, “She’s part of my family now, Winchester. She’s going to turn, and she’ll be mine. Eventually she’ll come for you, and the only way this is going to end is if she kills you, or you kill her. Either way, I get what I want.”

Dean looked up at Derek, and Derek pulled back in surprise as Dean’s green eyes momentarily flashed black. Dean’s hand shot out and grabbed Derek by the throat, and the amount of force behind it startled the werewolf enough that he lost his balance. Dean shoved him backwards as hard as he could, and Derek stumbled into the bathroom and landed unceremoniously on his ass. Before he had a chance to recover, Dean was on top of him. The knife had gone missing during the scuffle so the only weapon Dean had was his fists…and the Mark. Dean had lost all sense of where he was and even who he was, the only thought remaining was that he needed to destroy the monster in front of him at all costs. He punched Derek over and over again, his mind replaying the moment Derek had torn at Y/N’s throat. By the time he came back to his senses, the creature was barely recognizable. Dean fell back on his haunches and tried to catch his breath. He looked down at his shaking hands and the blood that covered them and remembered the reason he had lost control.

“Y/N…Y/N….” He stumbled back into the room to where Y/N had slumped over in her chair. He pulled her towards him and felt for her pulse, his heart in his throat as he struggled to find one. He let go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he finally found it, weak and thready, but there.

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled weakly at him, “Hey…”

Dean smoothed the hair from her face, “Hey, darlin’…” He pulled his shirt off and folded it into a square to press against her neck. “Sammy should be here soon, and we’ll get you some help, okay? You’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch really-”

“Dean, stop. I think we both know that it’s a little more than a scratch…maybe more of a flesh wound than a scratch.”

Despite the tear that had found its way down his cheek, he chuckled, “Yea…a flesh wound.” They remained silent for a moment as Dean carded his free hand through her hair and looked in her Y/E/C eyes, trying to think of something else to say. There had been so much that he had wanted to tell her, and now none of it seemed to matter.

“Dean, I need you to promise me something.”

He nodded,  “Of course, anything.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “Don’t let me turn, Dean. I can feel it in my veins, I can feel it burn, and I can’t live like that. I can’t…I might bleed out first, which is not really how I planned on going either, but I’m afraid that if you don’t kill me, I’ll turn into a monster. Please don’t let that happen to me.”

Dean shook his head, “It’s not gonna happen. Cas can fix it, he can fix anything. We just gotta get him here. Sammy is on his way, and we’ll get you home and Cas will fix it.”

Y/N laughed weakly, “I’m not so sure Cas can fix werewolf…although that is a nice thought.” She opened her eyes and searched Dean’s, “I need you to promise me. If you still love me…you won’t let me turn into a monster.”

Dean dropped his forehead against hers, “ **After all that we’ve been through, I could never let you go**. It’s always been you, Y/N, I never stopped loving you. I just…lost myself. I’m still lost. I can’t lose you too.”

Despite how weak she’d become, she was able to raise a hand and place it gently on his cheek, “You _can_ lose me though…you’ll make it, and you and Sam will save the world. Again. That’s what the Winchesters do. You are a hero, Dean Winchester, and for a brief amount of time, you were my hero. If I had the chance to change anything, I wouldn’t, even if the outcome was the same. But I need you to be a hero one more time, just for me. I need you to finish this, okay?” She pulled his face down so that her lips were lined up with his ear, “I forgive you, Dean. I love you, and I always will.” He pulled back to look at her, and she smiled. For a moment, she looked like she did before she left; happy and content. He leaned down and kissed her one last time, her lips soft against his. The silver knife had landed close to where she was laying, so he reached over and grabbed it, and by the time he looked back at her, her Y/E/C eyes had turned an unnatural yellow-green.

“Y/N…”

“Do it,” she growled, “please…” Dean slowly placed the knife against her chest, the blade dimpling her pale skin, and paused. In the moment it took for him to build up the courage to end it, Y/N pushed herself upward and impaled herself onto the silver knife Dean was holding.

“No! Y/N….no….” The knife clattered to the floor and Dean pulled Y/N to his chest and shook as he choked back silent sobs.

* * *

Sam ran into the room and slid to a stop when he saw Dean in the middle of the floor, Y/N limp in his arms. Dean was staring down at her, motionless.

“Dean…” Sam slowly approached him, and his eyes widened at the amount of crimson splashed all over Dean, “Hey…are you hurt? Whose blood is that?” Dean nodded towards the bathroom, his eyes never leaving Y/N, and Sam walked over to the open door. Sam nearly gagged at what he found; the werewolf, or what was left of it, was in pieces. Dean had literally torn him apart with his bare hands. “Dean, we need to go. We can’t stay here…” Sam walked back over and knelt by Dean, “Come on, we’ll take her to Jody’s…make sure she’s put to rest.” Sam moved as if to pick Y/N up and Dean grabbed Sam by the collar and growled, “Don’t fucking touch her.”

Sam stumbled backwards as Dean released him, and Dean carefully picked up Y/N and carried her to the Impala. Sam stood and pulled his phone out, “Hey Jody…it’s Sam. It's…it’s bad, Jody. Y/N didn’t make it. …No, I don’t know what happened exactly, but Dean…he tore that werewolf apart barehanded. …Yea, I know. Can we bring Y/N…thanks, Jody. We appreciate it. See you soon.”

Sam walked out to the Impala to find Dean in the back seat, Y/N draped across his lap and her head tucked under his chin. He walked around to the drivers side to find the keys already in the ignition and climbed in quietly. He sat for a moment, his eyes on Dean in the rear view mirror, “Dean…I’m sorry…”

“Just drive.” 

* * *

Jody had already begun getting the pyre ready for Y/N by the time Sam and Dean arrived. Jody hurried over to the car and opened the back door, then knelt down by Dean.

“Hey, sweetheart. We’re going to need to take her, okay? You gotta let us have her, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes shifted from Y/N to Jody, a single tear rolling down his cheek, “I can do it, Jody.”

Jody patted Dean’s knee, “I know you can…but I’d like to help you. Come on, kiddo. It’s time to lay her to rest, okay?” Dean nodded and slowly slid from the back seat, not once relinquishing his grip on Y/N.

The walk to the pyre was a long one, although in reality it only took a few minutes from the front yard to the meadow behind Jody’s house. The funeral was short. Dean laid her gently on the wooden platform but refused to say anything and instead stood silently, his hands dangling loosely by his sides, still covered in werewolf blood. Jody had looked on with concern at the distance between Dean and Sam, and when she mentioned it Sam just shrugged.

“Sam, you boys are welcome to sleep here tonight. You don’t need to be driving all the way back.”

Sam looked over at Dean and at the expression on his face and politely shook his head, “Thanks…but I think we’ll just find a hotel for the night. Thank you for everything, though. We really appreciate it.”

Jody patted Sam on the arm, “Any time, Sam. Any time.”

Dean walked past them towards the Impala without saying a word, and Jody looked at Sam in concern.

“You call me if you boys need anything, okay?” Sam nodded and enveloped her in a hug before following his brother to the car. He was surprised to see him in the passenger seat rather than behind the wheel, but he climbed in and started the car without commenting. Sam drove for about an hour before pulling into the parking lot of a seedy looking motel.

“I’m gonna go ahead and get us a room for tonight, it looks like it might storm and I don’t think either of us are in the shape to drive the rest of the way. That okay?” Dean grunted but said nothing else, his attention on a folded piece of paper in his hand. Sam considered asking him if he was okay, then decided against it. Dean would talk when he was ready.  

As Sam crossed the parking lot to the main office, Dean passed the folded piece of paper back and forth, flipping it through his fingers as he fought with whether or not he was going to open it. From the outside, it looked like a normal piece of college-ruled notebook paper; no writing appeared on the visible side, no doodles or marks of any kind, just the signs of wear and tear it gathered as it traveled from wallet to hand to pocket, back to wallet. Before he could decide whether he would open the paper or put it back in his pocket, Sam came back to the car and started gathering their bags from the trunk.

Dean followed Sam silently to the room and watched him fumble the key into the lock. Once inside, Dean wandered to the furthest bed and sat down, his eyes still on his hands and that folded piece of paper. Sam watched him for a moment, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Hey…are you hungry? There’s a diner next door, I can grab some food and bring it back.”

Sure,“ Dean replied with a nod, his deep voice,” gravelly and low. Sam waited a moment, but Dean remained silent.

“Okay…well…I’ll be back soon then.” He shut the door quietly behind him and ran a hand over his face. Sam had seen Dean mad, he’d seen him furious, he had seen the anguish that filled him when Charlie died, but this was different. He had never seen Dean completely shut down, and that frightened him more than the blind rage he had grown accustomed to seeing. The rain began to fall as he walked through the diner’s door, and he stood and watched through the window while he waited on their order.

“Sam?” He took the food from the waitress, his gentle smile enough to make the girl blush, and pulled his collar up against the rain as he made his way back across the lot. He had made it about halfway to the hotel room when he heard the sound of shattering glass and yelling. He ran the rest of the way and threw the door to their room open, only to have to duck as a lamp nearly hit him in the head. Dean was about to flip over the small kitchenette table when Sam dropped their food and practically tackled him into the bed. Dean swung blindly and nailed Sam in the jaw and he fell backward, disoriented.

“Dean, stop! It’s me, It’s Sam.” He grabbed Dean again and forced him to sit on the bed again.

He finally stopped, his breathing heavy, and looked at Sam with grief filled eyes, “She’s gone, Sammy. She’s gone.”

Sam nodded and tried to swallow the lump in his throat, “I know, man…I know. I’m so sorry…”

Dean shook his head and looked up at the ceiling as he tried to force the tears back that were threatening to spill down his cheeks, “It’s my fault. If she hadn’t left…if I hadn’t forced her to make that decision, she would have still been with us.” His gaze drifted back down to the floor and rested on the piece of paper he’d dropped earlier. “Maybe she was right, Sam…maybe I am the darkness.”


End file.
